Confessions of a Soren Fan Girl
by Sorenfangirl04
Summary: Everyone loves Soren, even if they don't show it. A story devoted to every secret Soren fan-girl in Fire Emblem. More serious than it sounds .
1. Elincia: Loyalty

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**Author's Note: Finally, I managed to get my first story up! Of course, it's about Soren. As many of you can guess from my pen name, I am a major Soren fan. I decided to devote an entire story to the many Soren fangirls in Fire Emblem (even though they won't openly admit it). Everyone loves Soren a little bit on the inside, and I intend to prove that point. I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are greatly appreciated, and feel free to add some suggestions too!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem or any of its characters … much to my dismay.**

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Elincia – Loyalty

The queen of Crimea knew that her attention should be focused on the war meeting. Tactics were key to winning a war, as any ruler should know. Strategy was not a matter to be taken lightly. Distractions could not be tolerated in a time so pivotal for her country's well-being. And yet …

Her eyes were resting on the raven-haired strategist next to General Ike at the head of the table. Maps sprawled out in front of him, he rattled off flawless battle plans as if they were simple everyday conversations. Elincia only wished some of Crimea's royal tacticians were as brilliant.

Soren paid no mind to any praise sent his way, dismissing it as he continued strategizing. His intellect awed her; grown men could not outthink this fifteen year old boy. Elincia could only imagine the gold he could earn for his faultless work.

Despite that, he showed little interest in any opportunities offered to him. The Greil Mercenaries seemed to have the only position Soren desired. Elincia knew that Soren didn't interact well in groups of large people, but there was something deeper inside the sage that drove him forward.

_Loyalty._

Even in the worst of times, Soren remained by Ike's side when others lost faith. No matter the blunders endured by the group, he never lost hope. The sage was far from the type to inspire those around him with eloquent motivational speeches, but his resilience to help the army did not go unnoticed by Elincia. Crimea needed someone like him, even when the war was over. Soren could prevent catastrophes and war with that cold calculating intelligence admired by all. His brilliance deserved better than the simple mercenary way of life. Elincia did not disrespect the Greil Mercenaries in the least; they had performed wonders for her in the past, and they were behind her once again. But, deep down, the queen knew Soren could far surpass the life of a simple sellsword strategist. Granted, he was different, but different did not always mean bad.

Elincia watched Soren from the very beginning of the war, amazed by what she saw. He was driven by something she could not even begin to comprehend. Magic, strategies, and a plethora of other talents … nothing was beyond his reach. But if she did not act, his tremendous aptitudes would be wasted. The queen knew this was not acceptable.

She approached him one day after a particularly fearsome battle on the borders of Begnion. The blow to their forces was a heavy one, but from a strategic standpoint, the fight had been a success. Several injuries had been sustained, and the usual bustling soldiers seen around the camp were now crammed among several healing tents, awaiting relief for their various wounds.

This was where she found Soren. The sage looked as though he had endured a very exhausting day. His black cloaks were stained with blood that she only hoped was not his. Scrapes and bruises abounded on his skin, blood dripping from an open wound across his forehead. His ashen skin appeared even paler than usual. All of the color was drained from his face, leaving it an unhealthy pasty white.

Despite this, he almost appeared satisfied. His crimson eyes glinted with some sort of accomplishment that Elincia didn't quite understand. He was not smiling, his mouth the familiar grim line as it always was. But the queen had learned to read beneath that frown, and that smug shine in his eyes showed that he was _almost_ content. They'd won the fight, and that seemed to be the only thing that mattered.

What anyone would have to be content about after a gruesome battle like that Elincia did not know. But it was best that he was in pleasant mood for their conversation (at least as pleasant as Soren could be).

"Soren … may we talk?" Elincia asked kindly. He glanced up from wrapping a wound on his leg, examining her with an unreadable expression.

"I suppose." Soren replied dryly, not appearing to be interested in any conversation the queen had to offer.

"Thank you." She pulled up a nearby chair and sat down beside him, her eyes moving to the injury on his leg. "Are you alright?"

"It's nothing. A simple scratch will do me no harm." The laceration was obviously much more than a simple scratch, but she did not pursue the subject. Soren's pride was nothing she wanted to test, despite the severity of the wound. It would heal in time, and the sage did not seem like the type of person to be overly affected by pain.

Her gaze lingered on the injury, and Soren quickly grew irritated by the lack of dialogue. "Did you need something?" He did not even feign polite interest, simply cutting right to the point with his sharp tongue.

She ignored the fact that he did not appear to enjoy her presence. Sensitivity to Soren's comments would do her no good. "I came with a proposition for you, Soren."

He still didn't look up from his task, but Elincia assumed she had his attention. "I'm listening."

"You contributions to our war effort have been irreplaceable. Without your assistance leading our forces, it's hard to say where we would be right now. You've pulled us out of numerous hardships that easily could have lost us the war. With any other tactician, we would not have had as many successful expeditions as—"

"If you're here to pay me compliments, it's not necessary." He cut in. "I do what is required if me. If Ike desires victory for the Laguz Alliance, I will do all I can to make it so. There's nothing for anyone to thank me for."

"That's not why I came to find you." It was slightly unnerving that he would not give her the decency of eye contact, so instead she only looked at the matted ebony hair running down his back. "Soren, when this war is over, I'd like you to come back to Crimea and work as our head strategist. Your wages would be at least tripled, and the Crimean army's battle plans would be specifically designed by you. Quarters and living expenses would be provided by the castle, and you would live in the center of all political activities. The position is sought after by many high ranking officials, but I would be honored if you would accept the offer."

For the first time in their conversation, he met her gaze. Elincia almost thought she saw amusement dancing in Soren's hard scarlet eyes. The sides of his mouth twitched upwards into a smile, but in a split second, it was gone. He averted his gaze again and returned his attention to his wound.

"No, thank you." Was his simple response.

Elincia waited for him to elaborate further, but no more of an explanation came. She blinked, trying to figure out if she'd heard him correctly. "Pardon?"

"I said no. Thank you for the offer, but I'm going to have to pass."

"But … why? Soren, this is one of the highest ranking jobs in the world! No country could possibly offer you a better position. Anything you desire can be yours if you take this job!" she pressed. "Head strategists make more gold in one year than many make in a lifetime! I implore you to reconsider."

"Queen Elincia, I have no interest in your proposition." Soren told her firmly. "I have more important priorities than earning large amounts of gold."

"You wouldn't even have to leave Crimea! Visiting the mercenaries would be very easy. Their headquarters are relatively close to the castle, and—"

"Serving as a royal tactician is not my idea of a satisfying job."

"What's better than serving the country?" Elincia questioned, completely perplexed.

"… I am still repaying a debt that I owe to Ike. Until that debt is fulfilled, I will not leave his side. It's not something I expect a queen to understand, but I have my reasons for refusing. My place is with the Greil Mercenaries, and it will remain so for a long time to come. No position can offer me that which Ike has already given me."

Soren rose from his seat, his leg now fully wrapped. He turned to her for a brief second and gave her a curt bow. "Good day, Queen Elincia." With only a slight limp in his step, he turned and left the tent without a single look back at the confounded queen.

Her eyes remained on the slightly blowing tent flap, part of her expecting him to return and accept the job. No one with any sense would turn down such a prestigious title. Such status was sought after by almost every member of the populace. Commoners would kill to have a rank as fine as head strategist …

But Soren did not return. The tent flap continued blowing in the breeze with no sign of any returning silhouette. Elincia shook her head, still baffled by the rejection he'd shown her. She was almost angry with him for such folly. Head strategists received some of the greatest recognition in history. Yet, the sage who led the Laguz Alliance against the brutal forces of Begnion would be thrown into the shadows and forgotten. She should be fuming at his foolishness …

But Elincia found she was not angry. She was deeply surprised to find herself filled with such great admiration. This boy had turned down fame and glory for a friend. Many knights were not even filled with such devotion. Vassals were not as faithful, and bodyguards weren't as dependable. She was jealous … impressed … awestricken …

General Ike was lucky to have such a companion. Soren may have more negative qualities than she could name, but one positive trait seemed to tower above the others. He possessed something that made him stand above the rest, and her newfound respect for the sage caused her to realize who the real fool was. He'd been right … again.

Elincia left the tent with a smile on her face, and she found herself only thinking one word.

_Loyalty. _

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**Thanks so much for reading! Please review! No flames, please, but constructive criticism would be great! I appreciate it!**


	2. Mia: Determination

**Author's Note: Thanks for reading the second chapter! I'd also like to thank my wonderful two reviewers Black Lotus Flower and Gamefreek321. Your feedback is very much appreciated! By the way, I didn't label this as romance because I wasn't sure who I'd actually pair Soren up with. I may throw in a few pairings, but I'm not positive yet. Enjoy, and please **_**please**_** review!**

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Mia – Determination

As the wind whipped fiercely through her hair and the cold sting of frost bit at her face, Mia decided the situation really couldn't get much worse.

She futilely wiped her sword, trying but failing to chip off the pieces of ice that had formed on the steel during the brutal cold. Her teeth chattered as more snow was blown into her face, and she moved a numb hand to cover her eyes. The cold was not her element, Mia decided.

Her eyes moved to the sage who stood to her right. His face was flushed as red as his eyes, but he still refused to show weakness. Soren's cloaks were speckled white, and the pages to his tomb almost appeared to be frozen shut. His hair thrashed insanely around his face as the wind picked up, but he showed it no notice. Nothing held his attention but the land ahead of them, but Mia wondered if he could see a single thing through the wild gusts of chilling wind.

She glanced down at the snow below him, which came up past his ankles. The white layer that covered the ground was dotted with blood dripping down from beneath Soren's cloaks. Mia examined it worriedly before calling out to him.

"Soren!" she yelled, the wind so ferocious that it nearly carried her voice away. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine." She noticed he didn't ask about her well-being, but Mia didn't let it bother her.

"Do you think there are more?" she asked loudly, hoping the nervousness in her tone didn't show through the wind.

"Of course there are more!" he shouted, evidently frustrated. "This is the goddess's work we're fighting, Mia! Do you think she's going to let us go this easily?"

Easy was the last word she would have used to describe their fight thus far. The Disciples of Order had ambushed their camp in the dead of the night, leaving little time for survival, nonetheless planning. Soren had attempted to bellow orders to the troops as the weather picked up, but he realized this was a wasted effort. The approaching army was so vast and the blizzard was so vicious that no commands could be heeded in such conditions.

Mia had made sure to stay by the sage's side. Fighting was one of her strong suits, but even she knew that taking out an army of the goddess's strongest beings was not a battle she could handle alone. Soren's brain, she'd figured, could pull them out of any situation in which her blade alone wouldn't suffice.

Surprisingly enough, the sage hadn't objected to her company. He'd simply told her to keep up and be alert at all times. Mia had willingly agreed to these terms, knowing that staying by Soren's side would be bound to improve her survival chances.

But amidst the chaos, the swordsmaster and the sage had been forced from the safer confines of the camp and found themselves in the inclement wilderness. The rage of the storm had picked up considerably, and they had yet to encounter any of their companions. The only people they'd stumbled across were fearsome enemies, many of which nearly had Mia's head.

The two had trucked onward, but Mia wasn't even sure if they were going in the right direction. Over the howling wind, they could vaguely hear clanging steel and battle cries in the distance. The battle was far from over, but exhaustion began weighing down on Mia's arms and legs. Her sword dragged beneath her, leaving a thin trail in the freshly fallen snow.

A clump of snow plopped onto her head from an overhanging tree, and Mia let out a yelp despite herself. Soren glanced over at her, and she gave him a sheepish grin. With an eye roll, he turned away.

"I haven't seen any other members of our group, Mia …" If Mia didn't know any better, she almost thought Soren sounded worried.

"Don't worry, Soren! I'm sure they're fine!" she pitched in brightly.

There was a slight pause before Soren responded darkly, "They're not the ones I'm worried about."

This took a moment to settle in Mia's mind. "You mean … Soren, are we lost?"

"Not … lost. We will easily find our way back to camp when this wretched blizzard clears up." He glared up at the sky, as if expecting it to heed his discontent. "If we're the only two out here, the enemies may approach in a larger force than we can handle."

Something about the sage's negativity brought out the optimism within Mia. "We've been fighting for quite a while. It's only a matter of time before the enemy starts to retreat."

"We are in no condition to continue fighting like this." His crimson eyes drifted to her. "For one thing, you look too fatigued to even continue walking. If the time comes, I doubt you'll even be able to pick up your sword!"

Mia cast him a fierce scowl. "I'm fine! I can always fight! Always! And you're the one bleeding out of your cloak, not me!"

Soren grunted, brushing himself off. "One of the cavaliers got a better piece of me than I would have liked. Regardless, my injury is nothing you should concern yourself with. Do not waste sentiment on me."

Her face was strained. "Soren, I don't want to argue with you. Neither of us have the energy. Can't we just cooperate?"

Soren examined her before curtly nodding. "I suppose we have no choice. Still, avoiding combat is the best option we have at the moment. Despite your protests, you do not appear ready for a battle, and my tome is rather frail … I fear it will give out soon. My fire book has already been decimated, so this wind tome is all I have left."

"More wind?" Mia grimaced. "Don't we have enough of that as it is?"

Soren opened his mouth to respond, but it quickly clamped shut. His face became rather grim, and he took a step backwards.

She blinked, confused. "What's wrong?"

His eyes remained fixed ahead, so she followed his gaze. Her sword almost slid from her grasp at the sight ahead of them.

Through the thick winds of the storm, a quiet rustling was heard. Crunching snow became louder and quicker, and before long, Mia could see silhouettes through the blizzard. She and Soren stood frozen in their places, and Mia's growing fear caused her to audibly gulp. More and more figures became visible.

"Run." Soren whispered hoarsely.

She wanted to obey, but she found her legs had lost the ability to move. "I can't …" she whimpered.

Soren's fist clenched, and he tightened his grasp around his tomb. "Mia, go."

But Mia never had the opportunity to listen to him. The Disciples of Order stepped before them in all of their shining glory. Their shields glistened a spectacular gold, and their horses were covered in blankets made of magnificent heavy shining cloth to protect the animals from the brutal cold. Every plate of their armor glimmered immaculately, and even their weapons gleamed like the sun that wasn't present. These pristine soldiers were the spotless image of perfection.

A scream caught in Mia's throat, and she stumbled backwards, knocking into the sage's shoulder. "S-Soren …"

Her mind frozen, Mia found herself unable to count the men before her, but she knew there were several more than she and the sage could handle. Her legs were trembling, but this time she knew it wasn't just shivering from the cold.

The soldiers lifted their weapons into an offensive position. Beneath their golden helms, Mia could barely see their expressionless faces. But she knew that she was to expect no mercy.

"Mia." Soren said shortly. She forced her gaze away from the Disciples of Order and looked at him. "I do not plan on dying here. No spawns of a false goddess shall bring about my demise. If you want to flee, I understand, but I will not budge. I don't care how many there are."

"But …" An indomitable glow flashed in his eyes, and Mia stopped what she was about to say. His expression hard and his jaw firmly set, she knew he wasn't about to give up.

_Determination._

Without explanation, something swelled within Mia that spurred her into a fighting stance, her sword held steadily out in front of her. Brushing the hair from her face, she focused on the enemies in front of her. A true swordsmaster _never_ backs down from a fight, no matter the odds or conditions. And Mia was not about to relinquish her title because of some petty moment of cowardice. She was a swordsmaster, and she would prove it to the end.

She took a deep breath. "Are you ready?"

He gave her a prompt nod before opening his tome. "Don't die." There was no emotion in this statement, no hidden sentiment, and no true feeling. It was a simple order. And Mia never dared disobey a direct order from Soren.

With no further chance to gain her composure, the first five mounted Disciples charged from their line, weapons at the ready. They let out no fierce battle cry or taunting, their eyes set ahead and focused on eliminating their target.

Mia sped forward and leapt up, slicing her sword at the nearest enemy. The steel scraped the shield with an awful screech, and she landed back on the ground, the snow crunching beneath her feet. She blocked a blow from his axe with her blade, ducking to avoid another hit from a lance. In one swift twist of her steel, Mia sent the enemy's axe flying through the air. The enemy attempted to swing at her from the top of his horse, but she plunged her sword through his torso as he moved. The man slumped down from his mount, and Mia retrieved her weapon without another look at the disciple.

She spared a quick glance at her companion to see Soren surrounded by five mounted soldiers. Mia winced as she watched a blade cut across Soren's arm, but he barely flinched from the blow. Instead, a tornado swallowed three of the enemies, and their bodies were sliced with the ferocious swipes of wind.

The once calming white snow was now stained a deep unsettling red. Bodies clad in gold littered the ground, turning the once peaceful area into a catastrophic field of ruins. Mia stumbled over a body, taking one misstep into the sharp point of a lance. Cringing against the pain, she whipped her blade around and pierced the unlucky enemy's neck. As the man fell, she softly felt the gash in her side to judge the severity of the injury. Blood slowly oozed from the wound, but the sting was numbed considerably by the nagging cold. She didn't have time to worry about minor injuries at the moment.

The battle continued for what seemed like an eternity as identical golden enemies continued to ride in, wielding their stainless shining weapons against the two. Mia narrowly avoided death several times as the adrenaline rush of the fight kept her reflexes quick and her sword arm steady. Her blade penetrated several merciless disciples, but she didn't make it out unharmed. Scrapes abounded on her arms, and blood now tarnished almost every inch of her clothing.

Mia lost sight of Soren during the fight, but the she assumed the devastated wind-torn bodies were his work. The sage may have been vulnerable in close range combat, but Mia was hardly worried for his safety. Any soldier who managed to land a hit on Soren was usually blown to pieces seconds afterward.

At long last, only one paladin remained. Mia took it upon herself to scare the man's horse, have him thrown off, and swiftly end his life by a powerful stroke of her sword. Once the deed was done, she collapsed onto the snow, panting and breathless. She was alive. They'd been assaulted by nearly twenty soldiers, and she was still breathing. Mia didn't know how it was possible. She found herself smiling as she stroked her blade, thanking the steel for pulling her through once again.

That smile was immediately wiped off her face as she remembered her companion.

"Soren!" she called, her voice echoing through the area. No reply came, so she called his name again, this time more desperately.

Scrambling to her feet, Mia scanned the area. Only glimmering gold and deep scarlet met her eye, no sign of the sage's familiar black cloaks.

The wind died down and the air was clear of blowing frost, but Mia felt the sting of snow on her feet more than ever as she frantically sorted through the bodies. Calling Soren's name repeatedly, she diligently circled the battlefield, looking for any sign of him.

At long last, she spotted a dark robed body lying motionless, his imprint already forming in the snow. Mia dashed to his side, forcing herself to ignore the ruby tint surrounding him.

"Soren!" She slid down onto her knees next to him, paying no mind to the bitter cold nipping her bare legs. "Can you hear me!? Soren!! Get up, Soren!!"

The weather suddenly felt much colder as Soren didn't answer, his face remaining the same unmoving grim expression. Mia found herself becoming more and more aware of the amount of blood staining Soren's cloaks. It couldn't all be his, could it?

"Soren … you said you weren't going to die here … remember?" She choked out the words as his expression remained unchanged. "What about Ike, Soren …? What would Ike say …?"

Mia took his hand, realizing it was soaked with warm blood. She forced herself to blink away the tears that were threatening to leak from her eyes. Soren said she shouldn't waste sentiment on him. Even at a time like this, she still didn't want to disobey his wishes.

A weak squeeze in her hand caused her eyes to immediately dart up to his face. Soren let out a slight groan as he lightly shifted his weight. His eyes slowly opened, and soon she was face-to-face with the same sour sarcastic sage she remembered. She gaped and stuttered at him for several minutes, but he was the first to speak

"I'm fine …" he informed her gruffly.

She laughed out loud and grinned at him before saying, "I know."

And she was telling the truth. Because there was one thing Soren possessed that no one, not even the Disciples of Order, could take away from him.

_Determination._

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**Personally, I like this pairing more than Soren & Elincia, but that's just my opinion. I'd love to take suggestions on any pairings you'd like to see. But, coincidentally, the only way you can make suggestions is if you **_**REVIEW**_**. Really, is it so much to ask? You can get your name mentioned in the next author's note! … Please …?**


	3. Titania: Dedication

**Author's Note: Thank you so much to my wonderful reviewers: Black Lotus Flower, gamefreek321, neville 2.0, Iceskatecraze, Winged Dancer, superultramario, and Chef Colette. I can't even tell you how much I appreciate the feedback, and I promise to get to many of your suggestions in time. Anyway, I know no one requested this pair, but I already had it written before I started receiving recommendations. It would be a complete waste not to post it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it. These two together seemed incredibly bizarre to me, but I figured I'd give it a shot.**

Titania – Dedication

Titania had seen a lot of things in her lifetime, many that she would have preferred not to have seen. Still, she had witnessed remarkable feats that the average person would barely even dream of. She'd seen a boy with a burden grow into a man with a responsibility. She'd seen a young woman rise against a tyrant to claim what was rightfully hers. But … it wasn't all triumphs.

The wind gently played with her long braid as she stood with her arms crossed over her chest, examining the sight before them. Clouds loomed overhead, threatening their somber gathering with rain. But not much could make the day more miserable.

An almost inaudible sniff was heard from her right, and she glanced over at Mist. The girl looked extremely weak and frail at that moment, leaning against Boyd for comfort. He looked baffled and shocked, obviously still taken aback by their situation. Nonetheless, he wrapped a tentative arm around Mist's shoulder as she began to cry.

"What … what's going to happen to the mercenaries …?" Her voice cracked, and she buried her face in Boyd's shoulder.

He awkwardly patted her back. "Now, now … I'm sure everything will be fine."

Titania was still having trouble taking in the events of the night. Everything happened so fast, she still didn't understand … How had it come to this? The war was over, and everything was supposed to be fine …

Ike was away for a few days. Elincia had summoned him to receive payment for their tremendous aid, and once again, he was offered noble status. The commander had refused, insisting that the life of a mercenary was the only one he planned on living. Titania approved of this notion, believing Ike would be very out of place in such a sophisticated setting. He had many talents, but holding his tongue in the presence of royalty was not one of them.

The company had been left in the hands of both Soren and herself. It was only for a few days, and they could manage fine without their commander in that period of time. Soren handled most of the work even when Ike was present, so there would hardly be a major change.

Her mind returned to the conversation she'd had with the tactician the previous evening. Once again, he was seated at the head of the table, rustling through papers, taking inventories, balancing the budget, and everything of the like. This was hardly unusual, but he was always the first to rise in the morning and the last to finally rest. Titania actually wondered if he got any sleep at all, considering he was always right where he was in the morning when she left him at night.

"Soren …" she began, pulling up a chair beside him. "You need to sleep."

He didn't even bother looking up from his papers. "I need to finish this paperwork."

"No, you need to sleep. Your eyes are so bloodshot …"

"My eyes are red, Titania. They always have been."

"That's not what I mean! When was the last time you had a good night of sleep?"

Soren actually seemed to have to ponder the question. "I would assume it was sometime before the Mad King's War."

"Well, we're not at war now." She pointed out. "Soren, you need to be well-rested if you're going to take care of this company. Without Ike here, all of the responsibility falls on us. You won't be able to think rationally if you keep getting two hours of sleep every night."

"My lack of rest is what keeps the mercenaries functioning." he told her dryly. "You don't need to worry about me. I'm quite used to this by now."

Titania let out an exasperated sigh, examining the sage for any signs of weakness. He stared back at her with unwavering discontent, and she knew arguing with him was only a waste of breath.

_Dedication._

Even if it was for the good of the company, it was hardly for the good of his health. "Try to get some sleep, please. You never know when we'll have to battle. You know as well as I do that bandits have been on the prowl lately."

"I am hardly concerned with bandits. The Greil Mercenaries have seen far worse."

That much she knew was true, but ignorance invited death. Titania considered pointing this out to him, but his aggravated frown showed that he was in no mood to be pushed. Instead, she simply sighed again and patted him on the shoulder.

"Good-night, Soren."

"I doubt it."

She rolled her eyes but restrained herself from saying anything else. She lightly walked down the hall to her quarters, being careful not to disturb any of the sleeping mercenaries.

The minute Titania rested her head on her pillow, she felt uneasy. The darkness seemed darker, and the shadows seemed more sinister. After years of battle and suspense, her intuition was keener and her awareness was much sharper than it once was. Anxious thoughts clouded her mind, and sleep refused to come. She wondered if she was becoming paranoid after years of combat.

Through the thin walls, she could hear Gatrie happily snoring away, oblivious to whatever apprehensive thoughts drifted through her head. Vague muffling noises followed as she assumed Shinon smacked his roommate with a pillow to shut him up. Nothing had changed, and yet …

An abrupt crash sounded through the building, and Titania rocketed up in her bed. Gatrie's snoring came to an immediate halt as the sound of shattering glass reverberated through the building.

Her door swung open, and a trembling Mist stood in the threshold.

"Titania, what's going on?" she asked fearfully.

Titania leapt to her feet, quickly snatching her axe from its place against the wall. "I don't know, Mist … Do you know where the noise is coming from?"

She pointed a shaking finger down the hall. "The mess hall … I heard men yelling … B-but I don't recognize their voices."

"Soren was in the mess hall …" Titania muttered nervously. "Mist, you should stay here. Don't let anyone find you."

"But what if something happens to you? Do you think Soren's okay?"

"That's what I'm going to find out." Axe over her shoulder, she sprinted from the room, leaving the terrified girl behind her.

The door to Shinon and Gatrie's room was ajar, and neither were inside. Titania assumed they'd taken it upon themselves to discover the problem, but she was hardly worried about them. Rolf's scared voice was heard inside the room he shared with Boyd, and neither of them had yet to leave for the mess hall.

She skidded to a halt as she flew through the doorway into the mess hall, trying to comprehend what exactly was going on.

Shinon and Gatrie were off to her left, weapons on the ground. The sniper was letting out a vile slew of curse words, and Gatrie simply stood in dead silence. He apparently didn't share the vast vocabulary of is companion.

Her eyes shifted to five unfamiliar men roaming the room. Each was armed with some sort of weapon as they monitored the mercenaries. One had an arm around Shinon's neck and a dagger at his throat while another had a sword aimed at Gatrie's forehead right between the eyes. Soren was being restrained by two men, each with a hold on one of his arms. The sage had apparently put up quite the struggle against the intruders, but he had no tome with him to properly defend himself.

"What's going on here?" Titania asked forcefully, directing her question at the only bandit without a captive.

He sauntered over to her and laughed, a considerable sway in his step. Titania winced away from the stench of alcohol on his breath. His freakish beady eyes frightened her as they never strayed away from her face.

"Where's yer commander?" he questioned harshly. "And put that there axe down!"

"Commander Ike is not here." She stepped back, refusing to loosen the grip on her weapon. "Do you have business for us?"

"What kind of business does it look like? We look like customers to you?" She eyed the large unshaven man with disgust, cringing from his stink.

"Make her put down that axe!" This yell came from one of Soren's captors, and the sage glared up ferociously at him.

"Titania, kill these men and stop this idiocy. We do not have time to deal with drunken low-life bandits."

Soren's remark promptly earned him a hard slap in the face, and the lead bandit turned his attention away from Titania back to the tactician.

"We don't have time for a mouthy little whelp like you, kid!" he snarled, unsheathing his sword. "Who do you think you are anyway?"

"I'm the tactician for this group. I help eliminate scum like you all the time." Soren retorted.

"Soren." Titania warned. "We should give them what they want and let them leave … nothing needs to get out of hand here."

"The lady speaks the truth!" barked the man restraining Shinon. "Let's get what we came here for and scram!"

"I refuse to submit to the likes of these criminals! This is madness!" Soren attempted to jerk his arm free from one of the bandits, but he simply received another blow to the face. If nothing else, this fueled his struggle. Sadly, physical strength was never Soren's strong point.

"Is it money you want?" Titania called over the ruckus. "I'll hand over the entire treasury if that's what it takes for you to leave! Granted, it's not much, but …"

"We are not giving felons our hard earned money! We are mercenaries!" the sage yelled.

For the good of the company Titania watched Soren try to wrestle himself free from the bandits. And, for the good of the company, Titania watched Soren die.

In one swift motion, the bandit plunged his sword through Soren's stomach. The metal drove all the way through his body and emerged through his back before the weapon was withdrawn. Soren painfully crumpled to the ground without a sound, the will to fight wiped from his face.

Titania's axe slid from her grasp, and it hit the ground with a loud metallic clank. Gatrie gasped beside her, and his mouth fell open. Even Shinon stumbled backwards, letting out another chain of explicit words. Several words were caught in her throat as she wanted to scream and run to Soren's side, but her legs wouldn't move.

The bandit slung the sword over his shoulder casually and wiped his hands on his filthy pants. "Geez, I thought that kid would never shut up. Now, missy, you were talking about money?"

Her horrified green eyes drifted from Soren's weakening figure to the disgusting man before her. Without a single thought, she lifted her axe from the ground and swung with more ferocity than she'd ever managed in her life. The man's head flew clean off his body before he could even muster a scream. Blood splattered from his stub of a neck all over Titania, but she didn't care. He killed Soren, and she wished she could kill him twenty times over again.

Shinon and Gatrie seemed to take this hint for action as they escaped from the clutches of their captors, dodging the hands that lunged after them. Shinon whacked a man over the head with his bow so hard that the bandit fell to the ground unconscious. The sniper made sure to promptly shoot an arrow through his throat thereafter. Gatrie's lance struck a man in the ribs so hard that an audible crack sounded as he fell to the ground. After an agonizing shriek of pain, Gatrie finished him off.

The remaining two men attempted to flee through the window they'd entered in, but Titania destroyed one with her axe, and the other was so riddled with Shinon's arrow by the time he climbed up that he simply flopped over dead outside the building.

"Get Rhys." Titania ordered to either one that would listen. Gatrie immediately took off running down the hall, yelling as loud as he possibly could.

"It's not going to do any good." Shinon sullenly pointed out. "It's too late."

"Stop it, Shinon. You don't know that." But Titania knew he was right, and the sinking feeling in her stomach could only be ignored for so long.

She crouched down next to Soren, whose heavy breathing and quiet groans of agony were quickly fading. "Soren, hang on. It's going to be okay. Rhys will be here soon … We just need you to hang in there … Everything is going to be—"

"Titania, it's not going to be okay!" Soren yelled, writhing in pain. "I … I'm going to die."

"You can't die … We need you, Soren … Ike needs you … We all need you …" she told him desperately. "Please, don't talk like that …"

"Ike …" he muttered. "Help him, Titania … Don't let anything happen to him … like what happened to me."

Her voice cracked as she attempted to say something, but she lost her train of thought at the draining color from his face.

"I … I didn't finish … taking inventory. You'll do it … right?" His crimson eyes didn't have their hard piercing aura, almost vacant of all emotion except sorrow.

"Yes, I'll finish the inventory." She would have laughed if she hadn't known he was serious.

"Good … someone has to keep this company … alive …" His eyes drifted shut, and the forced heaving of his chest came to a stop. He slumped to the ground, unmoving, and their tactician would never speak again.

Shinon had been stunned to silence behind her, and even he had no sarcastic gist to add to the situation. The mercenaries migrated from their rooms to see the commotion, but not one expected the sight that actually awaited them. A quiet drifted over them unlike one they'd experienced since the death of Greil.

And so Titania looked down at the ground below them where Soren was now buried. The only thing left behind to mark his grave were his favorite book of anima magic and one of Ike's old swords. It was only fitting that a possession of his best friend marked his burial. Soren wouldn't have had it any other way.

The mercenaries huddled around Soren's grave began to depart one by one. Gatrie gave a somber salute before leaving. Shinon spared a curt nod for the boy he often called a superior whelp. Rhys said one final prayer before solemnly leaving the sight. And soon, everyone was gone except Titania. She remained alone, staring at the place where her tactician lay.

She drew in a quivering breath. "Soren ... please get some rest. You've earned it."

Tears slid down her face as she turned and walked away.

_Dedication._

Damn his dedication.

**For as much time as Soren and Titania spend together, there's really not much interaction solely between the two. This was one of the stranger pairs to write about, but I'm sure I'll have to a few weirder ones. I hope this isn't too morbid … For what it's worth, please review. Again, thank you so much to my loyal readers!**


	4. Micaiah: Broken

**Author's Note: I have to say that Micaiah is one of my least favorite Fire Emblem characters (other than Eliwood), so pairing her with the greatest character of all time is strange. Sorry if you like Micaiah or Eliwood, but they're just too nice for my tastes (and their defense is HORRIBLE!) Luckily, I will not have to write a Soren & Eliwood fanfic. I hope you enjoy this chapter. And, once again, please review!**

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Micaiah – Broken

The silver-haired maiden felt nothing but confusion as she examined the wind sage. Despite her accurate ability to sense thoughts and emotions, deciphering all that was going on in Soren's head was downright impossible. She couldn't explain why, but she was having trouble understanding him even in the slightest.

Micaiah had met all sorts of people; people one would never expect to meet. She thought she'd seen it all until she'd met Soren. Of course, she knew what he was immediately. This branded boy may hide his emotions, but he couldn't hide his true identity. The mark that stained his forehead made it obvious enough.

Despite the fact that they were now on the same side, Soren continued to ignore and avoid her. He was scared, she thought. Most of the group knew that Micaiah could sense emotions, and he didn't want his attention being brought back to what he was harboring beneath his rigid exterior.

Coldness filled his heart unlike any Micaiah had ever felt. She was astounded by the iciness within, a brutal bitterness that he made no attempts to conceal. Micaiah refused to believe that anyone could only be filled with such intense anger and hatred, so she continued to dig deeper.

Soren was hiding something, she knew it. She was sympathetic, curious, and filled with pity all at the same time. Diligently, she watched him, trying to get a better read on what the sage was thinking inside.

An occasional warmth radiated from him when he was in Ike's presence, a feeling so slight Micaiah wouldn't have sensed it at all if she wasn't searching for it. Only the minor trace of a smile on his face at the blue-haired commander would have even hinted that he cared at all. Micaiah was almost at a loss when one day, it hit her.

_Broken._

His sorrow was masked with insensitivity and callousness. She had to admit he hid it quite well. But she could vouch that the life of a branded was not an easy path, and she could only assume he endured some hardships during his life. In retrospect, Micaiah had been blessed with good companions and an easily concealed mark. Soren, however, did not have the luxury of hiding his mark, and she didn't know how long he'd stood by Ike's side. Soren's years may have been much more difficult than her own.

With Ike constantly preoccupied by war meetings and such, she wondered if the commander ever had time to spare for his loyal tactician. Maybe, Micaiah thought, she could help Soren instead. If Ike didn't have a free moment to talk to his friend, she would certainly be willing to give the sage some company.

Micaiah was not usually intimidated by anyone due to her ability to read their feelings, but she had to say that the strategist did make her slightly anxious. According to Titania, he was holed up in his tent, his nose no doubt buried in some book. With a deep breath, she called inside.

"Soren? May I come in?"

There was a slight pause before Soren's dry voice replied, "Yes."

She pushed aside the tent flap and entered, taking note of the various papers scattered around the room. Maps, reports, and loose papers from textbooks abounded in stacks and piles. Soren had apparently made himself quite at home despite the temporary state of their camp.

Micaiah caught on to the swelling irritation inside him right as she stepped inside, and he made no attempt to conceal the aggravation in his eyes. "Is there a reason you wanted to see me, Micaiah?"

"I wanted to talk to you … May I sit down?"

Soren glanced around the room, every chair being stacked with papers or books. Eventually, he reluctantly gestured ton one of the messy seats. "Throw those books on the table."

She did as she was told, hesitantly seating herself. She hadn't really thought she'd get this far, and now Micaiah wasn't entirely sure what to say.

Fortunately enough, Soren broke the silence before it could get awkward. "What did you want to speak to me about? If you're going to take up my time, you should at least say something."

"Um … I was wondering … Soren, how are you?"

"How am I?" he repeated incredulously. "I am uninjured and in a suitable state to go into battle, if that's your intent."

She shook her head, realizing this may be more difficult than she thought. "That isn't what I meant. Are you … happy? Well, you don't look too happy, but are you content? Is there anything I can do for you?"

There was a momentary lapse of silence. "Is this a joke?"

Micaiah was beginning to think she should have focused her attention on someone else, anyone else … "No, I'm not joking. How are you?"

"I'm …" Soren looked extremely confused. "I'm fine. Why does this concern you? Did Ike send you to check up on me?"

"I'm here for my own reasons. Something about you feels … lonely. I was wondering if I could help you. If you need a friend, I—"

"How I feel is no business of yours!" he snapped angrily, glaring ferociously at her. "Just because you are gifted with sensing emotions does not give you the right to pry into my personal affairs!"

"Soren, I just wanted—"

"Kindly leave and let me resume my reading." He pointed to the exit after his cold statement.

"With a dismal sigh, she rose from the chair and nodded. "Just … think about what I said. I understand better than you can imagine."

"You're branded." he said shortly. "That does not mean that we are alike. We are, in fact, quite different. I do not have the time to waste indulging your nosiness."

"…Fine." At a loss for any other words, Micaiah departed Soren's tent with a defeated frown on her face.

Despite the fact that Soren's attitude seemed to become even less friendly towards her after that day, Micaiah was beginning to feel nothing but fascination towards the sage. Neglected feelings festered; she'd learned that from several years of experienced reading. It was only natural for him to push her away. After being closed off for so long, opening up to another human being was bound to be extremely difficult. At least, that's what Micaiah told herself. It was safe to say that she'd never met anyone quite like Soren, but she assumed that was his reasoning.

Reading him became even more complicated afterwards. Whenever Micaiah was in a close enough distance for her to sense him, the only emotion she could feel emanating from the sage was pure irritation. He was evidently not pleased by the extra interest she'd taken in him. His growing annoyance blocked out any other feelings, and Micaiah continued gaining no ground in these futile attempts to understand him.

But the silver-haired maiden was never one to give up. Earning Daein back from Begnion was not a task easily accomplished either, but she was successful nonetheless. The two goals hardly seemed comparable now, so how hard could this be? With this in mind, Micaiah rethought her strategy.

Maybe she wasn't being upfront enough. To say the least, Soren was very straightforward. Perhaps if she was the same way, he would take her more seriously and listen to what she had to say. Micaiah told herself it at least couldn't be any more of a failure than her last attempt.

A few evenings later, Micaiah decided to seize her chance. The army was celebrating a recent victory with a feast of sorts. She had to admit it was hardly much of a buffet considering their surroundings, but the soldiers took great pride in their achievements. She would hardly deny their huge accomplishment, despite the rather small array of food.

Soren, of course, was not present at the celebration. Micaiah was not at all surprised by this. The sage seemed to abhor any event in which he would be forced to socialize with others, even his own comrades. She didn't think she'd ever seen him attend any sort of festivity, so she'd hardly expected him to show now.

Sothe was feasting with Nolan, and he didn't seem to notice that she'd left his side. With one last glance over her shoulder, the silver-haired maiden slipped out from the center of the excitement, excusing herself from the chaos.

As she made her way through the rows of abandoned tents, Micaiah immediately glimpsed a flickering light from within Soren's makeshift home. She smiled and shook her head disbelievingly, wondering what fascinating book he must be reading to miss out on one of the only joyous occasions within their camp.

"Soren!" she called. The lantern in his tent was immediately doused, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes. "I know you're in there! I already saw the light!"

Discontented grumblings drifted from the tent as the flame was relit.

"May I come in?"

"… If you must …" Micaiah ignored the tense aggravation dripping from his voice as she entered.

His crimson eyes flashed fiercely as she stepped through the threshold.

"Shouldn't you be with the troops? I'm sure they're all drinking to your name. It won't take them long to realize that their precious savior has disappeared." His harsh tone once again caused her to question her decision to visit him. "You're probably much more wanted there than you are here."

"I'm glad to see that your manners are as impeccable as always." she sighed. "Soren, I don't believe that I've done you any personal wrongs. Why are you like this to me?"

"You've been digging into my emotions. I count that invasion of privacy as a personal wrong."

"I've only been trying to understand you." Micaiah explained gently, refusing to lose her patience with him. "You separate yourself from everyone around you, and it's not healthy. I thought if I had some idea of what you're thinking, maybe I could relate to you. You seem to have grown rather accustomed to being lonely, but it isn't right. Friends can help you more than you think."

Soren stared at her incredulously for a few moments. "You want to be my friend …?"

She nodded with a smile. "Yes. You're not the most social creature I've ever met, but companions would probably do wonders for you."

The sage shut the book on is lap, examining his feet as if pondering what to say. After a few seconds of silence, he looked up at her with the barest hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Micaiah, may I be frank with you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I honestly don't think I could stop you if I tried."

"Good. I have absolutely no interest in becoming your friend. You are one of the last people I would associate with by choice, ranking only above Shinon and a few others. The word "acquaintance" would be much better suited to describe our relationship."

Micaiah blinked in astonishment. Soren's sharp tongue had never surprised her before, yet his bluntness rendered her speechless. The sage, however, paid this no notice as he continued.

"I find you very irritating because you're too caught up in your own false ability to help everyone around you. Your undying compassion and generosity will only prove to be a hindrance to the war effort in the long run. You may have a gift that no one else here possesses, but that hardly fills me with the same admiration many others seem to have for you. Your kindness and my coldness are not two things that will easily mix. I thought you might realize this, but apparently your desire to fix my problems caused you to neglect your own. For someone who can sense emotions, you're not very good at reading people."

Soren rose from his seat, regarding her astounded gape with a certain satisfaction. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've been filled with an inexplicable desire to celebrate victory. I'm sure I'll see you around. Have a good evening, Micaiah."

She was pretty sure that was the only time she'd ever seen Soren smile.

As she watched him leave with more of a contented expression than she'd ever dared imagine, Micaiah shook her head. Maybe some people should just be left alone. He was so arrogant … rude … cold … insensitive …

_Broken._

She found herself smiling wryly.

But apparently not that broken.

**It never seemed to me as if Soren would be overly fond of Micaiah, despite them both being branded. Please review and send suggestions if you'd like! I'm trying to take all requests I get, so please understand that it may take me a while to get to all of them. I'm not going in any specific order, just when ideas strike me for certain characters. Thinking of a theme and story basis comes easier for some characters than it does for others.**

**The next chapter will be Soren & Lethe because several people seem to like that pair. And, don't worry Soren & Ilyana lovers, those two will come after. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading and please send me your thoughts!**


	5. Lethe: Pride, Part I

**Author's Note: Thank you SO MUCH to all of my amazing reviewers! I love to hear from you, and I'm SO thankful for your interest and feedback! Listening to what you have to say makes the story worth writing, and I can't even express how grateful I am.**

**Anyway, about this chapter, this is my first part that sort of branches away from the game's line of events. It's not horribly unrealistic or anything like that, but there was never a specific scenario that occurred like this. I hope you enjoy it anyway! Soren & Lethe is one of my personal favorite Soren pairings, so here's to hoping that I do them justice. Again, thanks for reading and (hopefully) reviewing! **

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Part 1: Lethe – Pride

Lethe had never been so completely humiliated in her entire life.

This … this was downright embarrassing.

She could already picture Ranulf's obnoxious grin in her head, and she instinctively let out a low and almost inaudible hiss. She was never going to live this down …

Being perfectly honest with herself, Lethe could barely remember how it all happened. Everything went by so fast, even with her heightened senses … there was no way for her to stop it.

She groaned and shifted onto her back, still not mustering up the strength to open her eyes. Still, despite her sluggish reaction, Lethe could immediately sense that something was very wrong. Her nose twitched, and with a start, she realized it.

She couldn't smell.

Her eyes rocketed open at the comprehension, but her sight was not the focus of her attention. Any other day, she could smell miles away. She could smell fresh prey without it moving a single step. She could smell the stench of beorc iron tainting the air beyond valleys and mountains … She could smell, well, just about anything.

But not now.

Lethe desperately whiffed the air, filling her lungs in a futile attempt to catch a scent. It easily could have appeared that she was hyperventilating. Her claws emerged in frustration as she continued breathing heavily … trying … failing …

Her head dropped in defeat, slamming against the hard stone floor beneath her. Laguz who could not smell were unheard of. It was blasphemy … she was blasphemous, and she had no idea why.

Another horrifying understanding dawned on her. She could not smell. But the rest of her precious senses …

Lethe perked up her ears, and much to her relief, she could hear her own breathing. She could see the crooked uneven stones lodged beneath her. She was not helpless, but …

Everything was dulled. She could not pick up sounds from other areas, and her eyes no longer noticed every visible detail of her surroundings. Things were blurry … almost lifeless. Was this what it was like for pathetic beorc? Did they live life in this terribly dim manner? Lethe shuddered to think about it.

The cat picked her head up once more, her inept violet eyes scanning the area to the best of their ability. It hardly took Lethe long to realize that she was locked in a dingy cell. Mold claimed most of the walls, and an ooze of an unimaginable substance climbed down the stone in a repulsive fashion. Pools of unclean water had gathered in the corners, and the lack of upkeep truly showed. Lethe assumed it smelled completely horrendous. _Assumed_. She really wished she didn't have to assume.

Only one thing seemed out of place in this cell: Soren.

She tilted her head, squinting, wondering if her eyes were deceiving her. Yet, the dark looking sage did not disappear after her staring, and she dared to _assume_ he was not an illusion.

His usually arrogant erect posture was slumped, and his head was bowed in something that Lethe could almost believe was distress. His pale face was wrinkled with vexation, and those typically piercing crimson eyes were slightly glazed over, strongly accentuated with dark bags underneath them. A nagging voice in Lethe's mind pointed out that if he looked that bad, she must look even worse. She ignored this voice.

As if he could sense her gaze, his head snapped up. Soren's eyes quickly flashed several unrecognizable emotions before they settled on a clearly unsteady indifference.

"Lethe." he said shortly, his voice completely betraying the indifference he'd struggled so hard to maintain. The tone he used was thick with exhaustion, pain, and … fear? Lethe's ears were deceiving her. At least, she sincerely hoped they were.

"What happened?" she growled hoarsely.

"You don't remember?" This question was not contemptuous, disdainful, or condescending. For Ashera's sake, what was happening to this world?

Fighting for normalcy, Lethe responded with biting sarcasm. "Would I have asked otherwise, beorc?"

He did not argue with her. Part of her wished that he would. "What's the last thing you remember?"

She dug into her mind and found a vague memory of entering a battle against Begnion's forces earlier that day. Well, Lethe _assumed_ it was that day. She was already tired of assuming things.

"The beginning of the battle." Anything after preparations was a hazy shadow she couldn't fight through. "Soren, what happened? Where are we, and where is everyone else?"

He closed his eyes, quietly recounting the tale. "The forces were not what we expected. Cavalry was our belief … they'd meet us head on. But, they had a much stronger magical unit than any of us could have predicted. We didn't know the bishops and sages they'd had in reserve …"

"What happened?" Lethe snapped curtly.

His eyes opened again, resting on her with a pained expression. "You were with the front line units. Ike … he wanted to get you out of there. There were too many sages with the power of fire. But … I insisted that you would be fine. We needed all the power we could get. I told him that you were fast and that you wouldn't fall to the likes of mere Begnion sages."

Soren's gaze shifted away from her, focusing intently on one of the many stones creating the floor. "There was a bishop with a sleep staff. You were being swarmed, and there was no way you … or anyone … could have seen it coming. Being surrounded like you were, there was no escaping. I don't think you even knew they were targeting you until you were fast asleep."

Lethe let out an annoyed grunt, but she restrained herself from interrupting the story.

"I thought they were going to kill you." Soren told her honestly. "There were so many, and the majority of our group was dealing with an ambush from the back. I may have been the only one who noticed your situation, but my tome was weakening. The power had almost entirely dissipated from its pages."

"Did you leave me to die, human?" Lethe spat bitterly.

For the first time in their conversation, Soren's eyes flashed with an all too familiar anger. Was it odd that it comforted her? "If I had left you to die, do you think I'd be here with you now!?"

She had to admit that he had a point. "Then what happened?"

"None of the soldiers advanced to kill you. Not a single one raised a weapon. They … stared at you, examined you, and discussed you. I thought I had time to come up with a plan. I thought … at the last second, Ike would come and tear through the soldiers, and we would emerge victorious. I thought everything would work out … because I had yet to lose a battle."

Lethe stared at him, _almost_ feeling sympathy for the pathetic looking sage.

"But … the bishop with the sleep staff … that damn bishop." He shook his head, glaring at the ground in fury. "I was distracted … too busy searching for a solution that never came. Once I saw the spell drifting around my head, it was too late. And I had absolutely no excuse."

His hands clutched the hemming of his robe, and he dug his fingers into the cloth in frustration, refusing to look at her. Lethe momentarily studied him, and he appeared to be uninjured. Well, mostly.

_Pride. _

His pride had cut him, practically degutted him. Soren always did seem to have to pride of a laguz despite only being a branded child. It was so strong some (herself included) went as far as to call it arrogance. Never had she seen anyone's pride lash out so hard. But the injury showed clearly on his face, every bit as real as a physical wound.

Soren seemed to swallow his pain in order to continue the recount of events. "Because I'm a sage, I've developed somewhat of a higher resistance to magic. The sleep spell was not as potent when cast on me as it would be for many others, including you. I … zoned in and out for quite some time, aware but unable to act. I felt them rob me of my only weapon, and I heard their voices … They were taking you back to the fort for some … studies." His lack of explanation on the subject worried her, but she had no chance to ask. Soren's face wrinkled scornfully as he went on. "Sadly, they recognized me as the tactician, and they chose to keep me as a hostage in hopes of a deal. They referred to me as "General Ike's pet". Hoping to force a surrender with their new captive, I was dragged back with you."

"They … didn't force us to surrender, did they?" Anxiousness clearly showed in her voice.

"I haven't heard." Soren told her dismally. "We've only been here for a night or two. I've lost track of time with no windows. If an arrangement was made, I have no knowledge of it … I pray that Ike will make no such move. I deserve to die for my idiocy. If they wish to execute me, so be it. I failed, and that is just punishment."

"Shut up, stupid beorc!" she said tersely. "Are you so foolish that you would give up after one blunder, one mistake? Is this entire struggle meaningless to you? Does your self-centeredness surround you and shun out logical thoughts?"

He had nothing to say to this, simply staring at her blankly.

"You are an annoying rude little pest, but you're as tough as they come. This … this is not the end. We are not going to lose this war, not because of one dumb mistake on your part. Make up for your stupidity. So think, damn you, and get us out of here."

"… Are you in any condition to escape?"

She hissed fiercely. "What is that supposed to mean? Are you questioning my strength?"

"Lethe …" His voice was not laden with its usual hatred. "You've been captured by Begnion. Did you really thing the soldiers captured you just to let you sleep? I was a hostage. They had good reason to take me. In any other instance, they wouldn't have hesitated to kill you. But they didn't. Haven't you thought about the reason behind it?"

She was bewildered by this abrupt riddle, and sudden apprehension swelled up within her. Lethe refused to let it show on her face, glowering steadily back at him. "Speak plainly, beorc. What have I missed? Be honest. I don't have time for puzzles."

Being honest something Soren was quite good at, so he didn't argue. "They've been drugging you."

"They've been WHAT!?" A ferocious snarl escaped from her mouth.

"The sage obviously knew the hostility wasn't directed at him, so he continued. "Soldiers have stopped by a few times, dosing you with some sort of medication. I know nothing about the drug, but it doesn't appear to be the same used on the feral ones. You don't seem aggressive … well, any more aggressive than usual at least."

"They … drugged … me …?" Fury swept over her, and it took all the self-control Lethe possessed not to unleash her misplaced rage on Soren.

He almost looked sympathetic. "There was nothing I could do. My tome was taken from me before I was thrown in this cell, and they were fully armed guards. They came in groups of three, and there was no chance I could have even attempted to take one out."

"What have they been giving me?"

" … I don't know. They poured it down your throat so fast I barely caught a glimpse of it. It almost looked like water, but I seriously doubt it would be that simple. Do you feel ill? Is anything wrong?"

"I …" Lethe scowled at the ground. "I can't smell."

Soren's eyes widened, and she heard a sharp intake of breath. "Nothing? You smell absolutely nothing?"

She shook her head furiously. "My hearing and sight are toned down as well … Everything is too dull. I can't stand it. Beorc can't possibly live like this …"

"Beorc …" An unpleasant idea seemed to cross Soren's mind, and a look of urgency sparked in his eyes. "Can you transform?"

"I haven't tried."

Lethe attempted to stand, but her legs were too unsteady to hold her up. She staggered, and Soren quickly caught her arm before she could hit the ground. As if realizing what he'd done, a mixed expression of horror and disgust emerged on his face as he jerked his hand away, promptly wiping it on his cloak.

She glowered at him, but Soren was not the main source of her problem. Closing her eyes, Lethe attempted to focus. She willed herself to change forms, pushed herself to morph. But despite her raw desperation, her body paid no heed to her efforts and did not alter its physical state. Lethe remained on two legs with nothing to remind her of the laguz within.

"What … what did they do to me?" Fear and indignation defined her voice. She slumped down on the ground, defeated. "I am … not a laguz. I am nothing."

Soren didn't say a word, not even looking at her.

"Look what they've done to me, beorc!" she snarled. "You must have something to say! This is your fault! You've let me become this monstrosity!"

His eyes remained fixed ahead as he slowly spoke. "Begnion … Begnion is fighting a war against laguz. This drug … it restricts their enemy. It weakens them, makes them unable to defend themselves. All it takes … is one leak into our water supply. That drug would blend perfectly … how hard could it possibly be to taint our water? If that gets out …"

Soren met her gaze, making no attempts to hide his horror. "If that gets out, Begnion will not stop. We'll lose the war and the laguz will be massacred until not a single one remains. They will show no mercy … and every laguz will die."

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**I decided I should stop it here before it got too long. I didn't want to bore anyone by making an insanely long chapter. By the way, just a fun fact, I can't smell either. That was part of the reason I decided to take away Lethe's smell. It would make it much easier on the author because I've never smelled a day in my life. It was sort of ironic, so I thought I'd share that.**

**Part II will come next (Sorry, I know I promised Soren & Ilyana, but I should probably finish this first). I've already written some of it, and I can already tell it will be longer than this one. So, if you like long chapters, you'll be pleased. If you have a short attention span, I apologize. I have a problem keeping things short … like this ending note, for example.**

**Please tell me what you think of this chapter! It's not exactly like the other ones, so I need feedback. Did you like where I went with this, or should I revert back to the old less extreme method? Be completely honest! Again, thanks for reading, and I look forward to hearing from you!**


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